


Tomorrow to Flesh Wounds and Pastures New

by JohnWWells



Category: Sayonara Zetsubou-Sensei
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnWWells/pseuds/JohnWWells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>1985. Nozomu Itoshiki, a new recruit for Quality Shinigami Services Incorporated, had been assigned to patrol the crime-ridden streets of Chicago as a collector of fresh souls. "Well," his supervisor remarked, as if telegraphing a joke, "at least the deceased are immune to gunshot wounds!" But they weren't, and they didn't automatically acquire the ability to speak English, either. Inevitably (given the diplomatically tenuous scenarios that are a Grim Reaper's <i>raison d'être</i>), this led to a dire misunderstanding. As Itoshiki's latest client pursued him up the side of what was then called the Sears Tower, brandishing a Thompson submachine gun and declaring that he wouldn't be taken alive OR dead, the raindrops spattered down, the bullets flew heavenwards, and it occurred to the novice <i>shinigami</i> that anime had lied to him.</i>
  <br/>
</p><p>  <sup>Abiru attempts to hide her temporary blindness, prompting a rant, a field trip, and a visit from a special guest star. Full cast, Abiru-centric.</sup></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Abiru Kobushi chained her bike to the school gate, the sun had not yet risen and the world was dark - not that it mattered. A drop of rain fell from the eaves, splashing the back of her neck, but thanks to the nerve damage, she barely noticed. Perhaps that was what Kafuka would call a "silver lining."

After two tiresome weeks in hospital, Kobushi was finally ready to return to the hallowed halls1 "Hallowed" in the sense of "All-Hallows Eve," or "Deathly Hallows." Not in any sense that would imply that the school merited respect. of OSt. PigeoNation's InstituteOOthe Humbert Humbert Girl's AcademyOOPurgatoryOOthe Elizabeth Borden Academy for Well-Adjusted Children . Of course, the doctors had talked nonsense about 'recovery time' and 'cardiovascular collapse,' but really, recovery time? By now, everyone at St. Sebastian's knew her name, birthday, favorite novel2 _Genji no Teiru._ , and college preference - and she didn't even know the last one herself. Surely they should have seen that any injunction to 'be careful' was wasted on her. Abiru believed in seizing the tiger by the tail.

Or, in this case, seizing the Sumatran Elephant Scorpion by the tail.

The name was an exaggeration, of course; the creature was, at most, the size of a small Toyota. But the trophy was still the pinnacle of her collection, no doubt about it. As she trudged up the school steps in the pre-dawn chill, she weighed the many-jointed mass of scorpion tail in her hands, checking to make sure its telson was still wrapped in protective foam. Show-and-tell was going to be a hell of a spectacle - assuming Mr. Itoshiki hadn't wised up and cancelled it after Chiri's shovel disaster.3 Chiri, incidentally, had named her shovel "Sam Spade," on the theory that this was funny.

The problem was, getting to class at all would be an ordeal with these vision problems. Ever since Mr. Elephant Scorpion pumped her full of his fascinating cocktail of neurotoxic peptides, she'd been experiencing bothersome symptoms, including fatigue, a metallic taste in her mouth, spontaneous paralysis, and temporary blindness. Well worth it, obviously, but having both hands occupied by the tail made it a nuisance feeling about for walls.

No matter. By tucking the third metasomal segment under her arm, Abiru could just about keep the weight balanced and her hands free, allowing her to feel her way in. Distances stretched out in the darkness, punctuated by tiny retinal flares; did it really take this many steps to get to class? But at least nobody else was there and the doors were unlocked.4 Every night, the doors were locked. Every morning, they were found unlocked. It was a mystery. She had ample time to remove her eyepatch, sneak the lesson plan from the teacher's desk, photograph it page-by-page, run the photos through her phone's OCR software, and listen intently as every line was read back to her before the others arrived.

By the time the others filtered into the classroom, there was no reason to suspect that anything was wrong with her, except, perhaps, that she wore fewer bandages than usual.

***

"So, Miss Kafuka," said Itoshiki, "what do you have to show us today?" His voice was level and professional, because he had yet to notice that Kafuka's shoebox had air-holes.

Fuura bounded to the front of the class and flung the box open. "This is Pochi!" she exclaimed, holding the creature aloft. Maybe she imagined she was in an animated film with a budget of $50,000 per tail, who could say? In any case, this pose put it exactly at eye-level with Itoshiki, who now was receiving the ugliest stare of his life. "Abiru!" said Kafuka, oblivious to the mounting terror, "would you like to pet him?"

Hesitantly, blindly, Abiru leaned forward and reached towards the sound of chittering, like a kid fumbling in a jar of "WITCH GUTS" on Halloween.5 No, Chiri Kitsu did not play this game "properly." She didn't play it at all. It is offensive to witches. She felt the scraggly head, the bony haunches, the long, scaly tail... oh, well. Once again, she'd have to be the one to deliver the bad news.

"Fuura," she said, tone level, "This is a sewer rat."

As the class's panic response finally kicked in, nearly leading to Itoshiki's death-by-trampling as he found himself wedged between the door and the mass evacuation, Fuura Kafuka quietly sidled over to Abiru. Pochi was still snug in her arms. Naturally, Abiru hadn't run away; it was just a rat, and she had no desire to give offense to Team Crazy.6Team Crazy consisted of Kitsu, Kafuka, and that leering bald man in the playground. Public opinion was pretty much unanimous: Stalker Girl didn't even come close.,7 To be fair, though, Pochi considered Abiru herself a terrible creeper.

"Say," said Kafuka, "is this like that urban legend? It would be really interesting if it had rabies, just like the story!"

"Rats don't get rabies," said Abiru. "They don't live through the bite wound."

"Oh," said Kafuka, disappointed. "Never, ever?"

"Hardly ever," said Abiru. She reached out to stroke Pochi's tail because, hell, you only live once. "Could have plague, though."

Kafuka pondered this, stroking her chin. "Plague... could be, could be. He has a lot of fleas." She waved. "Hello, fleas!"

"I see," said Abiru, apparently in dead earnest, "Do they reply?"8 And the fleas did reply, but in the language of fleas, which is understood only by other fleas, garbage bugs, and fanfic authors.

"That's silly!" said Fuura. Tucking Pochi into her bookbag, she headed out for an early lunch, only to nearly collide with Itoshiki in the doorway. "You're back!"

Wordlessly, Itoshiki stalked over to the bulletin board and slammed a poster onto the wall, somehow making it stick flat with a single slap. It depicted a rat that looked, as far as anyone could tell, identical to Pochi.9 It couldn't have actually been Pochi, Itoshiki knew. There was no way that the credited artist, that charming college student, could have known. Underneath, in bold, red letters, it said:

**"PLAGUE WARNING: HANDLING WILD RODENTS MAY BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH! Please be considerate; if you become Patient Zero, everybody is inconvenienced!"**

"Look, Pochi," said Fuura. "You're a star..."

"I must ask," said Itoshiki, "that you surrender this rat to the school authorities at once. What if I had contracted plague? _What then?_ 10In the alternate universe in which Itoshiki did get infected with plague, his students made the best of it by catapulting him over the walls of a rival school.

Characteristically, Fuura had an answer for this. "But - but he doesn't have plague... he just has the itchies!"

"What?" Itoshiki was aghast. "Do you mean to say that this horrific vector of septicemic pestilence needs nothing more than a _flea dip?_ You're just like those people who go to the doctor for an abcess and call it a 'bump!' Like that famous British soldier who was impaled with a spear and, upon being asked whether it hurt, replied that it only did so 'when he laughed!'"

Peeking into the classroom, Mataro shouted, "Old joke! In my country, the man is shot with an AK-47!" In demonstration, she waved what must have been a replica weapon. "It is a great joke!"

"Regardless!" said Itoshiki, brushing the interruption aside, "in this cruel society, whenever somebody is horrifically injured, they must act as if it's only a flesh wound!"

"Well," reflected Abiru aloud, "it's true that people underreport injuries."

"It is decided!" Itoshiki slammed the desk for emphasis, exacerbating the carpal tunnel syndrome he had so far managed to hide from his doctors. "After lunch, I must alert you all to the plague of _underreported injury_ that sweeps our country - the silent plague of 'flesh wounds!'"


	2. Chapter 2

INTERLUDE 1: _A Buddhist Parable_

While picking berries in the jungle, Nozomu Itoshiki accidentally stepped on the tail of a leopard. Angered, it pursued him through the thick scrub until it had him cornered on the edge of a cliff. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a vine and scrambled down the cliff face... only to see the leopard's mate circling below, licking its chops. And the vine was slowly breaking.

Suspended between death and death, Itoshiki bemoaned his fate. "I'm in despair! The prospect of being messily devoured has left me in despair!" But as he wailed, he saw, hanging from the cliff edge, an incredibly juicy cluster of berries. Hesitantly, he reached out and picked one, and put it in his mouth, and savored its nectar.

Poisonous!

\----

INTERLUDE 2: _Sherpa, Schmerpa_

Unbelievably, but not all that unbelievably, the school administration OKed the class's trip to scale Mount Everest. All that remained was to recruit the local guides and they'd be ready to head out. Given Chiri Kitsu's skill at administrative tasks, Itoshiki naturally left this to her.

"What did you tell her to do?" asked Arai, concerned.

"I asked her," said Itoshiki, "that we needed Himalaysians to guide us up the mountain. And yes, I told her she was not to detain anyone by force, nor attempt to bring anyone back here."

"That's good," said Arai, "but you do realize that the proper term is 'Himalayan,' not 'Himalaysian,' correct?"

That was news to Itoshiki. "I wonder why she didn't correct me on that point?"

-

When the reports came on that night, Itoshiki sprinted to the phone, knowing full well that it was already too late.

> _Shocking murders on Mount Everest! Tourists, climbers, and locals alike have been thrown into funeral pyres leading all the way up to the peak!_

"MISS KITSU! ARE YOU THERE?"

"Yes... I trust I've done an acceptable job?"

Itoshiki sputtered a little before he found his words. "I said I wanted Himalaysians to guide us up the mountain, not... THIS."

" _Himalaysians?_ " Chiri giggled. "Oopsie! I thought you said _immolations._ "

\----

INTERLUDE 3: _Pairing Debate_

Itoshiki had expected to do a lot of cleaning up after the science fair, but nothing of this magnitude. Perhaps he should have realized that Kafuka's ant farm would take up the entire baseball field, or that Chiri's volcano demo would not involve baking soda. True, some of the class had agreed to help, but one by one, they had filtered out, eventually leaving him alone with Fujiyoshi, who spent most of the clean-up period drawing, anyway. At least she wasn't bitter about having her project censored out of the fair.

"Mr. Itoshiki," she said, "you look like you're in a big hurry... do you have a date?" Her emphasis on the final word made it clear that she had some sort of interest in the answer, though Itoshiki couldn't see why she'd care.

"Ah. Well, I'm teaching a class at Itoshiki Manor," he replied. "A pairing class."

"... Oh my god. _They have classes for it???_ "

"Yes," replied Itoshiki, puzzled at her surprise. "We serve food and wine, and discuss pairings. I, for one, prefer a full-bodied, robust, well-aged - why are you blushing, Fujiyoshi?"

"It's just that - I didn't know you appreciated that kind of thing. It's an art, isn't it?"

 _Well,_ thought Itoshiki, _it isn't my place to dictate mores, but..._ "Aren't you a little young? I mean, legally..."

Fujiyoshi laughed. "Oh, no, my Mom's totally okay with it! She was into pairings at my age, too."

Itoshiki spent quite a while discussing pairings with her, and was shocked by the depth of her appreciation. When he said that "complementarity, the unlikely fusion of traits that just happen to work together, is the key thing," she nodded her absolute assent, and a mention of "Napa" triggered instant recognition. But he absolutely couldn't understand her vociferous disagreement with one of the most basic, canonical rules of pairing.

"That's not true," she said, genuinely distraught. "That's totally wrong! I know you're old-fashioned, but..."

He was adamant, though. "Whatever happens, _one absolutely mustn't overpower the other._ "


	3. Chapter 3

"Please resume your seats," said Itoshiki, cradling his bandaged hand. "I regret to inform you all that Mr. Pochi remains at large, having evaded my strenuous attempts at capture. However, Miss Kafuka reassures me that he is trained to return home, so you needn't -"

Something scuttled in the vents.

"- so you needn't fear any interruptions to this class. Miss Kobushi, your presentation, please."

Abiru picked up the tail and took her place at the front of the class. "I thought you were going to lecture us on flesh wounds."

"I am!" declared Itoshiki, "and you shall be my example!"

After a pause as eloquent as a shrug, she decided that this was still better than the planned lecture on water mold, an organism that had, much like everything else, induced the usual emotion in Itoshiki.11 Little did she know that Oomycote zoospores have _two tails._ "Okay," she said, "I got this trophy off a big scorpion."

"Ooh!" "Scary!" "Did you get stung?"

"A little," admitted Abiru. "Nothing much." He knew, she realized. He definitely knew.

Itoshiki rose to full height. "Miss Kobushi," he said, more triumphantly than was strictly necessary, "that is, indeed, an impressive tail. However! I suspect you are not being entirely forthright with us!"

"... yeah," she said.

"Of course, it was obvious," said Itoshiki, pleased with his deduction. From under his desk, an admiring voice added, "Naturally. A ring-tailed lemur passed directly before the window and she didn't bat an eye."

"You were there?" asked Itoshiki.

"Yes, always."

 _How could she even see the window from down there?_ wondered Abiru.

"In any case, Miss Kobushi," said Itoshiki, raising a finger in an accusatory thrust, "YOU ARE, IN FACT, CONCEALING YOUR CURRENT STATE OF BLINDNESS!"

Gasps of shock and pity filled the classroom, and a few, at least, gave way to shouts of indignation at their teacher's insensitivity. Among these angered few was Miss Kimura, who leapt to her feet a little too swiftly for modesty's sake. "OBJECTION! " she shouted, countering Itoshiki's stance with a pointer finger of her own,12 Sadly, Kimura did not win her trademark infringement lawsuit against Capcom. "That's totally a breach of medical confidentiality! I'll sue! I'll sue on her behalf!"

Why, Abiru wondered, did it always have to end in shouting? All she wanted was to weasel through her life unmolested.13And molest weasels throughout her life. Was that so wrong? "You don't have to sue. We aren't due for courtroom drama till next episode." And already, her temporary blindness was beginning to have unpleasant effects on the male students.

"She was hiding it. Wow," said a boy's voice, somehow impossible to pin down to a specific person. "That's so _moe_..." 

"Still, Miss Kobushi," said Itoshiki, "If you are to seek treatment, it is vital that you not deny the problem! I don't understand why you chose to -"

" _Yeeeessss! Blind is SO MOE!_ "

"Ah," said Itoshiki. "I see." Well, this was unfortunate. Perhaps he had been just a trifle confrontational? He knew how embarrassing it could be to have one's hidden traumas revealed; why, if anybody had ever forced him to admit how horrified he'd been when X/1999 was cancelled, he'd surely have died of shame!14 Indeed, Itoshiki had hidden a whole host of flesh wounds. He never gave the slightest complaint when a large man stepped on his toe on the Osaka Loop Line, or when Chiri fatally knifed him, or when the ending of _Evangelion_ turned out so horribly disappointing. He felt a pang of guilt, and addressed it in the only way possible.

"Attention, class. As of this moment, I am declaring a spontaneous field trip!"

In most classes, this would have been cause for rejoicing, but these students knew better. Would it turn out like last week's excursion to the sewage treatment plant? Or last month's visit to the crematorium, where Kafuka "made snowmen"? Or, worst of all, that day-trip to North Korea? No, even if the field trip did prove more interesting than water mold, Chiri had to object.

"Outrageous!" she cried. "We have no permission slips!"

Ordinarily, of course, this would have been an insuperable barrier, but among Itoshiki's students, there was a prodigy. "Miss Fujiyoshi," smiled Itoshiki, "the slips, if you please?"

Already, Harumi scribbled at wrist-straining speed, sweating over a stack of papers. "Hold on, hold on, I'm forging as fast as I can!"

And thus was settled Chiri's objection.

\---

Dr. Mikoto Itoshiki hadn't expected guests, but all of his best guests were unexpected, anyway, like the man whose blood was so full of parasites that it all had to be replaced, five times, or the man with the spider stuck to his face.15Also, that charming college student who was culturing bubonic plague. Now, he had an excuse to leave that whiny, thankless wretch on the operating table and conduct a tour of his brand-new facility.

"Welcome," he said, "to the grand opening of our Flesh Wound Clinic! If you don't want to go to the doctor for an injury, this is the best place to be!"

Abiru was nonplussed. "... why would you go to a doctor for stuff you hide from the doctors?"

"Ah," said Nozomu, "you missed the sign. The Flesh Wound Clinic is run entirely by doctors who, thanks to our litigation-happy society, have suffered 'flesh wounds' to their medical licenses, and are therefore, in the most technical sense, no longer doctors at all."

"Yeah," said Kimura, "I recognize these quacks."

"What? All of them?" asked Abiru.

"Except that one," said Kimura, pointing.

"That's the custodian," said Dr. Itoshiki, quickly,16By "custodian," Dr. Itoshiki meant "black market organ dealer." aware that every minute he spent in Ms. Kimura's presence reduced his career expectancy by at least five percent. "Um, now, allow me to show you our patients, _all of whom have signed release waivers._ "

 _Damn,_ thought Kimura, _my rep's getting around._ Their footsteps clicked through the halls of the clinic until they reached the curtained bed of the Flesh Wound Ward.

"Here," said Dr. Itoshiki, flinging a curtain open to reveal an elderly American, "is a man from the United States."

The patient looked up from his Wall Street Journal and smiled, the crinkles of his skin throwing his blotchy scars into relief. "It's only a flesh wound," he said. "Nothing severe!"

"Of course, he plays it down. You see, the man who shot him," explained Nozomu, "was none other than Dick Cheney!"

Furiously, Chiri yanked the curtain shut, "That reference is incredibly dated! That's hardly a 'fresh wound' at all!"

 _Oh, no, she didn't,_ thought Abiru. But Chiri most certainly had, and would go still further, if she could find her nurse costume and her medicine kit for dealing with the inappropriately living. Either way, Dr. Itoshiki knew well enough to ignore her and move on to the next bed.

"Next," he said, "we have a man who was dropped on his head as a child, and has hidden the condition for decades."

Inside lay [prominent Japanese politician], who nodded and smiled vacuously at his visitors. "Ah! I knew it!" said Nozomu. "[Prominent Japanese politician]", explained Mikoto, "has one of the worst cases of covert brain damage I've ever seen; he's very much in denial. As are [famous businessman who has had a scandal], [actress caught in some sort of affair], and former US President Andrew Jackson."17This paragraph 100% guaranteed not to become dated.

From behind another curtain, a voice with an old-timey American accent said, "Pay 'im no mind! I'm just here for my scar. 's just a flesh wound."

For Itoshiki, this was the last straw. "Don't you see?" he expostulated. "Everybody underreports their injuries! This is why the delusional masses believe that life contains hope, when, in fact, it is an unending parade of ill-concealed misery!"

Dr. Itoshiki tried to calm his brother down, to no avail. "THIS IS FLESH WOUND SYNDROME!" shouted Itoshiki over his brother's reassurances. And, in the perpetual PowerPoint presentation of despair that was Itoshiki's brain, a handy instructional slide popped into view for a few seconds:

**FLESH WOUND SYNDROME:**

  * Bad quarter -> Underreport your losses (financial flesh wound)
  * Death of * -> L**** Yagami says he's not heartbroken
  * Plane has lost all engines -> "We're running into some turbulence."
  * Sinking into vat of molten metal -> Give a thumbs-up
  * Health insurance canceled -> "Well, I'm not that diabetic."
  * Get an 'F' -> One pen-stroke makes it a really rectangular 'A'
  * Love is flying away; Nazis will kill you soon -> "We'll always have Paris."
  * We don't get another season -> "We'll always have manga."
  * Mom and Dad have fatal knife-fight -> Tell people they're in a better place
  * He got ripped from the life that he knew so well and thrust into a gated community hell -> But he played it all cool though these people were square and that's how he ended up with the Flesh Wound of Bel Air.



_"I'm in despair! This illness-concealing society has left me in despair!"_

The effect of Itoshiki's rant upon the ward of delusional patients was dramatic. At once, three of them tried to clamber out of their beds to confess everything to their families (and to competent physicians), while another five mulled over the possibility of assisted suicide. In speaking the unpleasant truth, Itoshiki was certain he had torn the sterile bandage of pretense from the writhing, maggot-teeming wound of reality.18However, as Kafuka would have noted, maggots clean up wounds and prevent infection and thus, like all living things, are our friends.

Naturally, then, just as one of the patients was opening a high window, Kafuka had to interfere. "Wait!" she exclaimed, "that's not underreporting at all!"

 _Could've fooled me,_ thought Abiru.

"No," said Kafuka, "that's a 'stiff upper lip!'"

The patients stared, and one put down his gauze bandage noose-in-progress. "Stiff upper lip?"

"Stiff upper lip, old fellow!" said Kafuka to the nearest patient, who hadn't moved below the neck in months. Maria, who had somehow acquired a monocle, chimed in, "Carry on, old bean!"19Purists might quibble that, if we were to be true to the Gracie Allen number, Kafuka should have said, "Stiff upper lip, _stout_ fellow!" Misquotation is acceptable, however, when weighed against the risk of turning into Seth MacFarlane.

A rabbity man with ragged nails hunched over in his sheets, deep in thought. "So... when I don't tell my sex partners about all my STDs..."

"Stiff upper lip!" said Kafuka. "You're brave to unburden them like that!"

"Now, wait just a moment, sir," Nozomu moved over to the bed to chasten this man for his despair-inducing irresponsibility. "I suppose you expect your partners to keep a stiff - ah! It's YOU!"

"Do you know this patient?" asked Dr. Itoshiki.

"Never met!" said Itoshiki. "Ever! Don't worry about it!"

Fuura beamed; the teacher caught on quick. "You got it! Stiff upper lip!"

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**SEUSSIAN INTERLUDE:** _Off the Prof_

"Chiri dear,  
Prof is here!"  
  See him run when she is near!  
He's in fear,  
That is clear.  
  Why this fear of Chiri dear?

In a bed,  
Chiri said  
  He and she must now be wed.  
He went red,  
Then he fled,  
  So she said, "I'll take his head!"

Will she off him with a blade?  
Will she off him with a spade?  
Will she knock his noggin off?  
  Off him, Chiri! Off the Prof!

Kafka's glad,  
Never mad,  
  See her grin when fun is had!  
Prof is sad,  
Just a tad,  
  "Why must life be oh-so-bad?"

She pooh-poohed  
This blue mood -  
  That is no good attitude!  
Very shrewd  
Plans she brewed,  
  Then she said, "I'll spike his food!"

Will she feed him toast and tea?  
Will she feed him LSD?  
Will she spike his stroganoff?  
  Off him, Kafka! Off the Prof!

  Do not laugh.  
  Do not scoff.  
Kafka spiked his stroganoff.  
Chiri knocked his noggin off.  
  No more Prof!  
  Goodbye, Prof!

\----

**HAIKU INTERLUDE:**

> old cliff  
>  a man jumps off  
>  the sound of despair

\- N. Itoshiki, after Bashō

> window by your bed  
>  smiling birds watch you in sleep  
>  you make them feel good!

\- F. Kafuka (pen name)

**

> _FALL HAIKU_

Chiri Kitsu was displeased.

"The blackboard says FALL HAIKU, but it is not Fall, and it is written in English! Infuriating! Correct it at once!"

Mr. Itoshiki obliged. "Ah, my apologies. I meant to write this:"

> _FAIL HAIKU_

"Every year," he explained, "high school students write haiku. And every year, they fail to meet the standard of even the most mediocre of the anthologists! That is why this is FAIL HAIKU!"

The class was silent, less out of shock than out of general apathy. "So we're writing Haiku today," said Abiru.

"Yes!" said Itoshiki, "haiku that will be crumpled up, thrown away, and forgotten as soon as the grade is received. Truly and utterly pointless haiku!"

"But why in English?" asked Nami.

"Because presuming to write genuine haiku would be ludicrous!"

(Blackboard: 'The author does not speak Japanese')

As expected, however, Kafuka put her oar in. "That's wonderful! We can take them home to our parents, if we still have parents, and show them how much English we know!"

"That was not at all my intent -"

"And they can put the haiku on the wall and frame it and remember it forever and ever!"

A little rankled by this possibility, Itoshiki ordered the class to begin their writing, and comforted himself with the thought that their parents would probably be ashamed of the work anyway...

__

\--

> Haiku in English?  
>  Unforgivable, indeed.  
>  Do it properly!

\--

> What is OTP?  
>  Two men, not canon. Alas,  
>  That is OTP!

\---

> Haiku do not please.  
>  I might like them more  
>  If the tail were on the end.

\---

> In this country!  
>  Are good things to eat!  
>  In this country!

\----

> `YOU'VE GOT 1 NEW MAIL`  
> `MESSAGE FROM A DUMBASS PROF`  
> `MESSAGE DELETED`

\---

> Even wicked men  
>  Weep to hear the tales I tell.  
>  One girl never does.

\---

> pororoca po  
>  roroca pororo  
>  ca pororoca!

\---

> Birdsong bestirred her  
>  From a fleeting dream of love  
>  Sue the goddamn birds

\---

> Hiya, worker ant!  
> Do they even notice you?  
> Do they know your name?

\---

> If Kafuka's birds  
>  Frighten you, O dearest one,  
>  Let me block their view.

\---

> Everything I want  
>  Staring at you from my eyes:  
>  Mayhem and delight!

\---

> ~~The pond, still as glass~~  
>  ~~A cherry petal falls in~~  
>  ~~And makes one ripple~~
> 
> ~~Gently quaking leaves;~~  
>  ~~Dewdrops on a spiderweb~~  
>  ~~Swaying in the breeze.~~
> 
> This isn't a normal haiku,  
>  It isn't a normal haiku,  
>  It isn't mundane,  
>  And it might be insane,  
>  But don't call it a normal haiku!

A normal limerick. Grade: Average.

\---

> Don't know what to write -  
>  Oh, no! Now it's almost done!  
>  Sorry! So sorry!

\---

> Through sunset hallways  
>  "Traumerei" echoes softly;  
>  Blanket, keep me warm.

\---

> I am in despair!  
>  This ignorant pastiche has  
>  Left me in despair!


	5. Chapter 5

They departed the hospital with suspicious rapidity, in spite of Dr. Itoshiki's generous offer of free t-shirts and mugs.20 All of which were decorated in flowing characters that read, thanks to an error on the designer's part, DR. DEATH'S FLESH WOUND CLINIC. Ai Kaga was still shivering a little; all of those patients had surely kept their problems quiet to keep others from worrying, and she was one of those others, and so she had a small but nonetheless wicked part in their continued downfall, and what if they lost _limbs_ because of her? "Sorry!" she shouted over her shoulder. "So sorry!"

And because she was looking backwards, she was the last of the group to see the figure in black armor standing between them and the school bus, tall, shining, solid as an obelisk.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" said Harumi, beaming, "I was waiting for this!"21Did you think I wouldn't stoop to this level? If so, you were wrong. Now, was he going to say it? He had to, he had to...

'NONE SHALL PASS!" declared the Black Knight. He swung his broadsword before him a few times, as if the air had committed some dire trespass.

"Yes!" said Harumi. "That's perfect!"

Most of the others were somewhat less pleased, barred, as they were, from their ride home. A surreal once-in-a-lifetime encounter with a walking anachronism is a fine thing in itself, but dinner is dinner, they were late, and Commodore Perry was somehow fundamentally cooler. Meru, in particular, made her displeasure clear with a volley of text messages: `WTF MNTY PYTHON REF? THIS S JAPAN DUMBASS`

But, culturally appropriate or not, the Black Knight was not going to let them pass, even if it meant taking harsh measures. The first to step forward and learn this was Kagerou Usui, who tried to sneak onto the bus under cover of invisibility. The broadsword whirred and connected, and there was a sick THUMP as Usui's head hit the pavement.

"NONE SHALL PASS!" Slowly, the Black Knight bent over, reached down, and tried to lift up Usui's head by the hair, only to find that there simply wasn't enough purchase there. So, instead, he held it aloft by the neck-stump, which wasn't nearly as iconic, but achieved the desired effect.

"Aaaaaa!" said Nami, tugging Itoshiki's sleeve, "Let's get out of here!" There were other buses, buses without blood-spatter and inexplicable swordsmen. Why wasn't anybody running? The rat had terrifed them, so _why wasn't anybody running?_

"Man," said Usui's head, "this really bites."

But from Chiri Kitsu's point of view, what "really bit" was not the decapitation of the shadow president, but rather the utterly inexcusable delay that the entire class was being subjected to. Usui could be replaced, but a minute lost was a minute lost forever.22But somebody did care what happened to Usui. After the commotion had died down, Dr. Itoshiki looked out his window, and was astonished to see a girl huddled on the pavement, clutching Usui's head to her bosom. "Don't die," she cried, "Don't you dare die, or I swear I'll sue you for emotional damages!" "Enough," she said, brandishing a silk glove. "I challenge you to a duel! A proper duel!"

Boldly she strode forward and slapped the Knight across the face with the glove, the rest of the class obligingly backing her by saying, " _SFX: SLAP, SLAP, SLAP_ ". And then all was silent, save for the harsh breathing of the Knight, and the whisper of the wind, and the anguished bark of a dog in the distance, and the twang of somebody23Probably just an extra. plucking thinly at a koto, and, faintly, in the background, " _jiiiiiiiii._ "

The scrape of shovel on pavement broke the silence as Chiri brought her weapon to bear, and then metal clashed and glinted and swept the sky in a clatter of " _SFX: CLANG, CLANG!_ " Soon, the two were weapon-locked, struggling for leverage as _forte_ met _forte_ in the classic 'dueling Jedi' position. "NONE... SHALL... PASS!" growled the Black Knight.

"Idiot! We've all been held back a grade," said Chiri. "None have passed! YOU ARE REDUNDANT!"

And with that, she broke the lock and swung her shovel in a sharp, short arc, severing the Black Knight's sword arm. "Yield!" she gloated, "You will yield at once!"

"Bah," said the Black Knight, and picked up the sword with his off-hand. "'tis but a flesh wound!" Harumi squealed with inappropriate joy.24Aside from her elation at the phrase itself, she'd just realized she shipped Black Knight x Frost Shogun. It works, it works!

"What?" said Chiri. "That is not the proper way to respond to massive exsanguination! You are violating the fundamental laws of physiology! You must - ACK!"

Her decapitated head bounced three times before it came to a rest. "Inconceivable!" it said, and, had it been physically feasible to do so, she'd have shaken it in disgust. This brigand showed no respect for biological realities.

Now the class was no longer merely concerned. Nami had fainted, and Meru was hastily composing her last will and testament, hampered only by the questionable legal status of leetspeak. Itoshiki was not at all 'amped' about the prospect of a messy public death by decapitation; being reduced from a figurative talking head to a literal one would be truly pathetic. Was this how it would end for all of them? Was his angry letter demanding more _X/1999_ -style melodrama to be answered in the most ironic way possible?25To be honest, he didn't like the way CLAMP characters tended to swap eyeballs and so on. You can't just trade organs like Lego.

For once, the thought that Matoi intended to accompany him into the afterlife was a genuine comfort, rather than a burden of paranoia and guilt. He turned, ready to pull her into a reassuring and, he hoped, entirely platonic embrace, only to realize that she was gone.

Not gone! She was behind the Knight, and had somehow acquired a fluffy pink dress!

"What? What is this? _What is this?!_ " cried Itoshiki. "Is this how Deep Love truly works?"

`LOL SHES DRESD LIK PRNCSS PEACH`

Matoi simply ignored both of her critics, and leaned a little closer to the Black Knight, who, unsure how to respond to this novel form of assault, stood frozen in place. "Fair Sir Knight," she said, "be my champion!"26 She was unaware of the irony of her word choice, as many would be.  


"... will do," said the Knight, a little uncertain, wondering if even he was obliged to avoid the appearance of misconduct in such matters. What would Lancelot say next time they bumped into each other at the pub? Meanwhile, in the background, Itoshiki assured the class that this turn of events was, at best, a minor scratch to his ego, and nothing more.

"By my troth,"27 As impressive as her quick-change was, Matoi still believed that a troth was a sluggish tropical mammal. said Matoi, "it must be lonely to be such an one as thee! A Black Knight! A warrior who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals... and the nefarious Joker!"

Itoshiki couldn't contain himself. "That's a _Dark Knight!_ And his girlfriends always die!" But Kafuka playfully chastised him for being so serious, and he decided to defer to her on this one. Harumi had her own objection to voice, in any case. "You can't make eyes at the Black Knight, Matoi! He's destined to be with Suzaku!" 28Comments like this didn't justify the Black Knight's decision to lop off heads with abandon, but they went a good way towards explaining it.

`I TALK N TXT MSGS  
N EVN I THINK UR DORKS`

"I don't know what you're all on about," said the Black Knight. "But none of you lot are getting past, and that's that."

Muttering, scheming, quiet panic.29The class had learned to panic quietly ever since the invasion of their school by blind alien squid with sharp hearing. One student hefted a sharp stick, doubtless for perfectly innocent ends,30Or the ends of perfect innocents. another mentally calculated how much blood was inside the Black Knight's entire body,315.8 liters. and yet another tried to scrape together cab fare. But deliberation halted when Abiru Kobushi stepped forward, trophy slung over her shoulder. 

"I'll fight him," she said.

"But you're blind!" said Itoshiki. "That would be suicide! Exceedingly messy suicide!"

"... I'll fight him," she said, and gripped the tail with both hands. "Is there something I'm supposed to say now?"

Kudou raised a hand. "'Have at thee, Sir Knight," he suggested helpfully, "for the terror of death at thy hand is naught to the terror of my father's cudgel!'"32Cudgel, n.: A baked Jewish pudding made with bread noodles. Almost everyone applauded, including the knight, and excluding only the student who was occupied with her daily prayer to King Carcosa of Pororoca. Abiru considered the enthusiastic response to this borderline slander. Was she going to have to run a slide show? Distribute leaflets? Well, this was hardly the time to worry about it.

"Have at thee, Sir Knight," she said, " _et cetera._ Let's finish this." 33Whatever Abiru's flaws, Chiri was now solidly on her side. How could she be against someone who italicized _et cetera_?

"Right-o," replied the knight, and raised his sword in a salute that Abiru matched. Then, warily, he lowered it. "What kind of sword is that?" he asked.

"My kind," said Abiru, removing the foam around the sting.

The Black Knight harrumphed. "Don't think you can put one over on me, missy! That's a poisoned blade there, that is!"

Such an underhanded tactic would, of course, invalidate the duel entirely. Thankfully, Kafuka saw that the misunderstanding could be easily remedied. "That's just for decoration!" she said, bouncing over with little regard for her own safety.34It wasn't as if she was going to die. Ever. "There can't be any venom in there. There's no way Abiru would do something that sneaky!" By way of demonstration, Kafuka pricked her forefinger with the sting. "See? You try!"

"What's that supposed to prove?" asked the Knight, but he took off his remaining gauntlet nonetheless, revealing a pale, slender hand.35Along with a wedding ring inscribed "L. L. AND S. K. TILL DEATH DO US PART". Warily, he jabbed himself in the fingertip - a little blood. Nothing else. "Mph. Guess you're right. I don't feel it at all."

"Hey!" said Maria, "I know scorpion like that! We call them the People's Lobster!"

"Are they poisonous?" asked Nami.

"Yes. But it takes a minute before you stop."

"Before you stop _what?_ " asked the Knight.

"Stop!" said Maria, grinning. And Kafuka would have kept grinning with her even if her face hadn't been the first thing to be paralyzed. Slowly, she tipped backwards, muscles rigid, right into Itoshiki's arms. "Now, wait, this isn't fair!" said the Black Knight, three seconds before he collapsed like a tin can Jenga tower, hitting the steps of the bus with a clatter.

Itoshiki stared down at the girl, who was still as a corpse. "Fuura!" he cried, shaking her in his arms. "Wake up! Meru, call an ambulance!" She was heavier than she looked, as if gravity insisted on making up for every leap she'd ever taken. Slowly, her head lolled to the side, and then back, eyes still locked open.

From her perspective - and she was, indeed, still conscious enough to have a perspective - everything was dark. She could barely remember the last time she'd been somewhere this dark; Mr. Night-Light made sure that never happened again.36She always kept Mr. Night Light around when she slept. He reminded her of Dad, possibly because that was who he'd been, once. Her lips twitched a little from their grimace. " _Mama?... 'm... gunna... chewmiwayout..._ "

"She's alive!" said Itoshiki, hugging her tightly.

"So's he!" said Maria, pointing to the Black Knight, who was slowly rising to his feet, revenge on his mind. Without a moment of hesitation, Abiru grabbed the tail and hefted it high. "Get him!" shouted Chiri's head. "FINISH HIM!"

The Knight laughed. "I hate to fight a blind girl," he said, "but -"

Circling and slipping precisely past Black Knight's parry, Abiru thrust the telson neatly through the slit of his helmet. He shuddered as the venom coursed through his central nervous system. "B-blind?"

"Temporarily," said Abiru, and, in true Hollywood fashion, tossed her spent weapon onto her opponent's body. In the background, Chiri's head cheered:

" _Scorpion wins! **FATALITY!**_ "

-

Class ended early that day, if only because Jinroku had to round up some old friends to dispose of the still-whining heads. Back at her own apartment, Fuura Kafuka slapped a fresh bandage on her wrist and whistled a folk song about rosies and posies. Her new pets were doing well.

"Hi, little guys! How's it goin'?" she said, eyeing with motherly pride the disused furnace that she had converted into a makeshift plague-flea tank. In the back of her mind, she could hear their tiny shouts of thanks. They were so happy now, so happy - and she'd even worked out a way to do it without hurting Pochi. She opened the hatch. "How're you doing, Mr. Knight?"

The Black Knight squirmed under the layer of arthropods as they continued their neverending exsanguination, but he knew what was expected of him. "'Tis... but... a... flesh... wound..."

"That's right!" said Fuura. "Stiff upper lip!"

Surely in his next life, she reflected, this feeding of the multitudes would bring him honor and glory!

**THE END**


End file.
